


Hypocorisms are the Intellectual’s Pet Names

by birds_in_winter



Category: Spider-Man (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Corny jokes, M/M, Mild Angst, Mild Language, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, random educational facts, references to Dungeons & Dragons, slow burn?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-04-18 06:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14207337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birds_in_winter/pseuds/birds_in_winter
Summary: Harry is bad at making up original nicknames so he just steals one and Peter hates it.





	1. Apology Coffee with a Side of Vengeance

**Author's Note:**

> I'll change the summary later...

The sound of Coldplay woke Peter up, groaning as the once nice sounding song became an anthem of sleep deprived misery. Every morning he thought about changing it, but never followed through on it. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he smiled as he saw his phone flash the date. It was wednesday, meaning that it was his and Harry’s coffee day.  
  
It had been about two months since Harry had taken over Oscorp, and while Peter couldn’t help but feel things were entirely different now, he was also relieved to say not all of it had changed. Harry still wanted to be friends with him which was something to celebrate, and it was touching how hard the other boy tried to meet up with him once a week at their usual coffee place. It sounded selfish, but it made Peter feel just a bit giddy knowing Harry went out of his way just for him.  
  
As sweet as it was however, the entirety of it all left a sour taste in Peter’s mouth. The entire situation was ridiculous, a seventeen year old managing a multinational corporation making room for his best friend. It also annoyed Peter how Harry went out of his way despite Peter’s protests. In the first weeks after Harry’s transition into power, Peter had gotten up at five in the morning so he could manage to deliver Harry the coffee to his office. The way Harry’s face would light up made him feel the effort was worth it, and each time he’d do it gladly. And Peter had kept doing it, until Harry scolded him and decided to take time out each week to instead meet at a more reasonable hour for Peter’s sake. Peter was irritated by that, but tried his hardest to think of it in a positive light. His friend wanted to hang out with him just as much as he did and that was all that mattered, right? Well no, but he was going to have to think like that.  
  
He threw on his classic look of a sweater and jeans and made his way downstairs, noting how punctual he was being. Aunt May was in the kitchen, frying some eggs, smiling as she saw her nephew walk down.  
  
“Want some breakfast before you go meet Harry?” The scent was tempting but Peter shook his head.  
  
“No thanks Aunt May, I’ll grab something over there.”  
  
“Oh my little Petey-poo’s excited to hang out with his best friend, that’s so sweet!” she smiled, pulling him in for a hug.  
  
Peter laughed awkwardly at the hypocorism, remembering the incident he had had two and a half months ago. How in the midst of a Spider-Mutant filled New York City, he and Harry had rushed to protect her only for her to become a mutant herself. In a moment desperation, Peter had used her cute hypocorism to see if he could restore some humanity in her. Unluckily, Aunt May didn’t snap out of it and Harry had heard that, but the silver lining was that Aunt May was no longer a Spider-Mutant and Harry seemed to have forgotten about the entire incident.  
  
Closing that thought, he dispeeded himself and hurried to the coffee place, ignoring Aunt May’s laughter as he rushed out.  
  
-  
  
Peter made it at their usual meeting time, a bit winded from the run. It didn’t take long for him to find Harry. The boy sat by the window with his computer out, swiftly typing what appeared to be code on his screen. Peter noted Harry’s intenseness and decided to try and leave him be for a bit, only peering over his shoulder to check if he had ordered yet. A coffee cup sat in confirmation, letting Peter know he would only have to order for himself.  
  
Grabbing his wallet, he set his backpack down softly on the counter near the other boy. Harry startled a bit from the movement and looked towards Peter.  
  
“Hey there Harry,” Peter laughed apologetically.  
  
“Hey there,” he recovered, flashing a smirk.  
  
“I see you already ordered, did I keep you waiting long?” At the comment, Harry picked it up and swished it around, it was practically empty.  
  
“I don’t know… probably not? Truth be told I came here at opening hours so I wouldn’t accidentally lose track of time. I’ve been a bit occupied with revamping the glider… making it more resistant to people slinging it around and breaking it.”  
  
Peter laughed at the comment, only stopping when he was met with Harry’s cold stare.  
  
“Sorry… I mean uhh.. That’s really great Harry.”  
  
“Great? It’s more than great. With the upgrades I’m planning, I’ll be able to navigate the skies like a pro… not to say I’m not doing that already.” Peter scoffed at the comment but didn’t challenge it.  
  
“Well I’d love to hear about your upgrades, I’m just gonna get a coffee really fast, but I’ll be right back, okay?” Peter said, backing away.  
  
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Harry said expectantly, continuing to type more code.  
  
“Forgetting what? I’ve got my wallet right here,” Peter questioned, waving his wallet about, almost flinging it into the laptop.  
  
“My apology coffee?” Harry questioned, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
Peter huffed as he caught Harry’s smug reflection in the dimmed computer screen.  
  
“Apology coffee?” Peter repeated questioningly.  
  
“Yeah, for mocking my glider?” Harry typed a frowny face onto the screen before deleting it.  
  
“I said sorry?”  
  
“Sorry doesn’t cut it Petey-Poo” Harry explained, a bit deadpan.  
  
Peter immediately froze at the mention of Aunt May’s nickname for him.  
  
“Wh-What did you say?” Peter hated how flustered he sounded.  
  
Harry grinned maliciously, “I said that I’ll forgive you if you buy me an espresso”  
  
Peter squinted at him, “Really? Because I thought you said something else.”  
  
“Like Petey-Poo?” Harry said a bit louder this time. Peter bolted towards the counter as two people looked in their direction, his face turning red from both the sudden run as well as embarrassment. Harry remembered? Well then again, how could you forget something like that?  
  
As much as it made him want to die inside, there was also that small (and irritating) part of him that longed for that sort of thing. That thing being more affection from Harry, ideally romantic. Peter quickly shook the thought out of his head, refusing to acknowledge his crush further. Peter knew that Harry tended to tease playfully and this time was no different. Harry was just calling him a cringey pet name that only his Aunt could get away with... that was it.  
  
Peter didn’t waste much time afterwards ordering the coffee. He stayed by the counter, allowing him the time to recover fully from the embarrassment. By the time the order was ready to take, he was thankfully back to his old self. Upon his return, he noticed Harry was still working on the glider, albeit more casually, stopping entirely as Peter set the cup down near him.  
  
“Thanks Petey-Poo~” Harry smiled, singing the last part. Peter was dying but he knew Harry was looking for a reaction. Thence, he tried his best not to give the other boy a reason to continue.  
  
“I got you your coffee, so I think I’ve merited the respect of being called just Peter,” he tried in the most irritated sounding voice he could come up with.  
  
“Aw, it’s cute though, fits you.”  
  
Peter’s mind rushed through several emotions, the main one being equivalent to a Kermit the Frog meme. Did Harry just imply he was cute?  
  
In his flustered state he couldn’t respond, although that seemed to be a response in itself to Harry, letting him know that a simple little nickname could get a good reaction.  
  
Harry laughed, leading to Peter turning away in frustration. Peter waited for an apology but only got a gasp in response.  
  
“Peter, dude, it’s 7:48.”  
  
“What?!” Peter screeched. Harry grabbed Peter’s backpack and flung it over the boy’s neck.  
  
“I’m so sorry! Hope you don’t end up late!”  
  
“This is the third time I’m running because of you Osborn!” Peter said racing away. As he sprinted towards Horizon, his head couldn’t stop thinking up questions. Did Harry like him back? Did he mean cute as in cute cute or as in silly cute? The questions lingered longer than he wished.


	2. The Son of the Mob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A weekly D&D meet leads to awkwardness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be advised, this chapter contains D&D and physics references.

Harry glanced at the clock, noting that Peter was now ten minutes late to the weekly D&D meet at Miles’ house. Miles had finally finished his excruciatingly long campaign which was filled with what Miles considered “quarky” references to particle physics and quantum gravity; needless to say, everyone was just a bit grateful that it was over. If there was one good thing that came of it though, it was that Harry had more than enough time to flesh out his murder mystery campaign. Although just because he had that time, didn’t mean he used it properly, what with running a company and all that.  
  
“Parker’s late again, honestly I shouldn’t be surprised,” Anya groaned, refreshing her newsfeed every five seconds.  
  
“Well at least he’s been less late ever since we pushed our meetings back without telling him,” Gwen laughed, stacking her red and pink dice on the coffee table.  
  
“Oh man,” Miles chuckled, “I forgot that he still thinks the meeting is at three.”  
  
Harry laughed along with them, casually glancing at his DM notes and the maps he had made. He realized with a panic he had forgotten to bring his sheet of on-the-spot character names as well as information for taverns. He hoped he would be able to come up with something on the spot but knowing himself, he knew it wasn’t very likely. Either way, he thought it best to play it cool, rather than admit his weakness.  
  
“So Harry, you gonna provide enough opportunities to seduce?” Gwen asked, her eyes glinting a playful light. Seducing was one of Gwen’s favorite parts about D&D, something that really flustered Harry when he began to DM for the first time, as he once had a crush on her. Now her antics as Rita Wescoff, tiefling extraordinaire, rarely fazed him.  
  
“Yeah, I’ve made sure to include tons of taverns just in case you critically fail like last time.”  
  
Gwen’s dirty look made him smirk in response. She rolled her eyes at him and continued her task of stacking.  
  
“Well I’m pretty curious to see if you can out-DM my campaign,” Miles teased.  
  
“All Harry would have to do to out-DM your campaign is to spare us of the Lagrangian,” Anya retorted.  
  
Miles looked visibly hurt, making both Harry and Gwen panic. Sad Miles was a bad time for everyone.  
  
“Well… I mean let’s give Miles some credit, the whole nerdy particle physics vocab and the cute little “A Boy and His Atom” video was good,” Gwen giggled.  
  
“Oh yeah! And I really appreciated the tavern drinks named after quark flavors.”  
  
Anya smirked, “Gwen kept asking everyone whether they liked bottom or top better.”  
  
They all laughed, and Harry was relieved to note that Miles seemed to recover from the upset. The time was now 4:10 and there was still no sign of Peter. The anticipation of seeing him stressed him out, and all he could think about was getting some time to breathe.  
  
“Yo, mind if I use the bathroom Miles?” Harry asked.  
  
“Go ahead, it’s better than you not using it.”  
  
They all laughed from Miles’ comment, Harry feeling a bit red from the joke.  
  
“Alright, just don’t look at my stuff... If I catch you, you lose inspiration”  
  
“Okay okay, go piss” Gwen sighed humorously. He rolled his eyes in response and went down the hall, immediately feeling a bit more at ease. As soon as he closed the door, he let out a breath he didn’t know he held.  
  
He buried his head into his hands in embarrassment, turning on the sink to splash his face with water. Petey-poo really? How should he even go about addressing that horrible event to Peter? Should he even do that?  
  
Harry had lightly flirted with Peter before, but always made sure it could be taken more as a joke so he wouldn’t frazzle Peter. He had said Petey-poo as a lame attempt after hearing a couple near him at the café use lame nicknames, which reminded him of the nickname in the first place. Thinking that Peter would think he was being ridiculous, he went through with the idea, but as soon as he saw Peter blush embarrassedly, he knew he had messed up bad. The only thing he could think of was to keep it up jokingly for a bit and move onto another thing when the time came in order to not make Peter feel bad for ruining a joke that wasn’t funny, and for it to become less awkward and then naturally die out.  
  
Right as Harry was about to dry his hands, he felt the house shake as a door was shut a bit too harshly. The footsteps he heard coming closer had Peter’s distinct pattern, small, light, frequent steps.  
  
“You’re late,” he could hear Gwen say with a smile.  
  
“Yeah… did you bring your dice this time at least?” Miles questioned.  
  
He heard Peter scoff, the sound unconsciously bringing a smile to Harry’s face.  
  
“Yeah of course I brought my-” the thud of a backpack hitting the floor and the opening of a zipper, “-phone with an integer generator.”  
  
“Parker, your random integer generator kills the mood” Anya complained. Harry was unsure if she was joking or not, as much of Anya’s tone was based on her expression. The brief pause before hearing Peter’s laugh made it seem as if it was a light tease from her part, but Harry couldn’t know for sure. Knowing Anya though, her ability to trust Peter was disappearing each passing day. Harry couldn’t blame her, though ever since Peter told him he was Spider-Man, a lot of the clumsy forgetfulness made sense.  
  
Harry finished drying his hands. He opened the door, noting that unlike Peter’s steps, his were nearly soundless. With that observation came an idea. He was going to scare Peter.  
  
“Well…” Peter began, “clearly I’m not that late if Harry’s not here yet.”  
  
Peter’s lame excuse made Harry roll his eyes and all the more intent to scare him. The steps to the other boy were agonizing, but all the more intense. Now a foot away from Peter, he locked eyes with Anya who tried her best not to show amusement as he slowly crept up to Peter.  
  
He began to stretch his arm towards Peter, struggling not to let himself laugh as he planned best how to poke him. As he neared Peter’s shoulder, the boy rapidly turned around, grasping at Harry’s arm and twisting it.  
  
“Oh God!” Peter exclaimed. Harry wrenched his hand backwards dumbfounded.  
  
He had forgotten about the Spider-Sense.  
  
“Woah Peter, still tense from being late?” Gwen said, voice cautious. She got up to inspect Harry’s wrist with concern, only to sit back down with a light wave of his hand.  
  
Peter laughed nervously, glancing at both Harry and Gwen, “Yeah I suppose so.”  
  
“Yeah well now my arm’s going to be tense after this,” Harry complained.  
  
“Need an ice pack?” Miles asked, “We got the gel type and the cloth covered ones”  
  
“No” Harry sighed trying his best to smile, “Let’s just get this session started.”  
  
“You sure? The gel one is shaped like a cat!”  
  
“Yeah Miles, thanks though,” Harry laughed.  
  
As they settled down, Peter whispered an apology to him. Harry bit back the sarcastic suggestion Peter should kiss it to make it feel better, realizing that that wasn’t at all a good thing to say. He forgave him instead albeit bitterly.  
  
-  
  
The campaign went as smoothly as it could with four sarcastic teens. Anya’s sorceress Isala kept trying to moderate some sort of control as Gwen’s Rita kept either interrogating everyone or trying to steal things. Miles’ paladin Wayland when not stopping Rita, would encourage her to interrogate people, insisting he play the good cop. Then Peter’s paladin Alben was usually busy in the background, occasionally helping Anya bring back the attention of the others, but would also listen humorously to the goings on without intervening.  
  
However badly offtrack they got though, they had reached good progress in solving the mystery, learning of potential mafia material near the tourist area of town. Eventually they made their way to a tavern , as they normally did, Gwen chuckling as they did so. Harry began to feel nervous about doing all of this by memory.  
  
“Wait a second Rita, before you flirt” Anya/Isala spoke, “How many exits are there?”  
  
Harry smirked, “Two, one you just entered from, and one on the other side of the tavern.”  
  
“Can you give us a description of the place in general?” Miles asked.  
  
“Roll.”  
  
Miles rolled his black and gold die, a 15.  
  
“The tavern looks ancient, with some stairs that look extremely creaky. Windows are alongside the walls but they are covered with curtains. There are five people in there, four seated at a table and one by the bar. Pretty empty overall but it’s got a nice atmosphere.”  
  
“Nice!” Anya grinned, high-fiving Miles. Harry breathed a sigh of relief at their acceptance of his crappy description.  
  
“Where do you guys want to go?” Peter asked.  
  
“I think the table would be the best,” Anya spoke.  
  
“I agree, more people, more information, right?” Miles commented.  
  
“Alright, you head over to the table, what’ll you do?”  
  
“Are they armed?” Peter asked.  
  
“Good question Petey-,” Harry coughed, “-Peter, only one of them, they have a dagger laid onto the table.”  
  
“Are they sober?” Gwen asked. Harry thought for a moment.  
  
“It seems they are buzzed.”  
  
Harry played along humoredly, trying not to let his inexperience at improvisation show. He was hoping that he could gesture them towards the loner at the bar, someone he had fleshed out more in detail. Then again, he had generated that guy a month ago while Miles was still in the middle of his campaign, and the guy’s name was escaping him.  
  
“Hey Isala, I think we should try another person… it doesn’t seem like these people know very much” Miles/Wayland suggested after Gwen/Rita continued to flirt with no real findings.  
  
“I agree,” Isala/Anya muttered, as Gwen laughed uncontrollably.  
  
“How about we try that loner guy at the bar?” Peter suggested. Harry could have kissed Peter just then, thankful for the progression. The character had ties to the mafia. Gwen began to pick up her die, ready to have a fun time. Peter seemed to see this and picked up his phone faster to generate.  
  
“I want to walk over to him, and sit next to him” Peter stammered. Gwen huffed but did nothing except roll the die within her palm.  
  
“Want us to come with?” Miles/Wayland asked.  
  
“Maybe hang back” Peter/Alben spoke.  
  
“I’ll go with Alben,” Gwen/Rita affirmed.  
  
“Alright,” Harry said, clicking his tongue, “the loner looks at you two odd, as if he isn’t used to company, he seems a bit cold but doesn’t make you leave.”  
  
“Can I try and break his act? Flirt with him? Seduce?” Gwen’s tone suggested nothing good. Anya and Miles sighed in the background.  
  
“Roll,” Harry deadpanned.  
  
Gwen rolled the d20, anticipating another fun time. As soon as the dice settled on 1, everyone screamed.  
  
“NO!” Gwen screeched, hiding her face in her hands. Peter laughed, patting her back. Miles started laugh-crying, falling onto Anya who couldn’t stop voicing that her prayers were heard. The laughter only grew harder learning that she had 0 modifiers for charisma.  
  
Harry attempted to compose himself, but every time he’d speak up, he’d start laughing again. It took five minutes before everyone including him settled down.  
“Okay, okay,” Harry said, taking a deep breath, “You try and flirt with him, but unfortunately for you a small laugh leads to you drooling a bit. As you attempt to recover by grabbing a napkin, it falls to the floor. You try to reach it, but lose balance and fall off the stool. The loner huffs angrily, muttering something about you ruining his alone time and drawing way too much attention to him”  
  
“Oh God…” Gwen said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, “I think I’m going to run away.”  
  
“I’ll allow it… so that just leaves Alben and the loner.”  
  
“Alright… ummm” Peter began. Miles shot him a thumbs up. Peter lifted his finger in thought and continued, “I’ll tell him my name I guess, and… umm…apologize for Rita.”  
  
Harry smiles, “He looks to you, examining for a moment, ‘Yeah’ he says skeptically”  
  
“I insist she’s really nice.”  
  
“Mmhm.” Harry said in the tone of the loner.  
  
“I want to convince him that I’m a good person…” Peter muttered more to himself than anyone else. “I want to roll for diplomacy.”  
  
“Go ahead.”  
  
Peter clicked a button, and got a 20.  
  
“Yes!” Anya hissed.  
  
“The loner listens to you for a while, growing fond of your company. He invites you to drink with him and after some light drinking, he seems to be willing to answer your questions.”  
  
“Umm, guess I’ll start off with some easy questions… like umm, what’s your name?”  
  
Harry froze. His mind was going through various things… the guy knows about the mafia. Mafia, like mobs… son of the mob… mobson… rhymes with Thompson… Flash.  
  
“Flash Mobson,” Harry blurted out.  
  
There was dead silence, before a session of cackling erupted. Peter held his sides, wheezing as he did so. Miles sunk his head onto a pillow yelling into it.  
  
“Harry stop please… my sides still hurt from Gwen’s crit fail,” Peter whined, voice weak from the pain of laughter.  
  
“I can’t believe I missed my opportunity to swoon the Flash,” Gwen said in faux-dismay, “You have to flirt in my stead Peter, you have to.”  
  
“Umm I’d really just rather-”  
  
“Why not?” Harry blurted out, surprised by his own insistence.  
  
“I mean, I’m not good at roleplaying…”  
  
“Neither am I, but we’re here” Harry smirked. Peter laughed lightly, face pink. Harry assumed it was due to the laughter.  
  
“Um… I roll to seduce” Peter stuttered, throwing the dice.  
  
He rolled a 15 with a charisma modifier of 2, a 17. Gwen high-fived Peter in response.  
  
“You know Alben, Alb. I don’t know if you know this, but it’s pretty dangerous to be around these parts,” Harry began in his best impersonation of the Flash. The others giggled.  
  
“Yeah, I hear there’s a mafia and stuff,” Peter/Alben deadpanned.  
  
“So tell me about yourself.”  
  
“I’m a paladin, I like math, and… I like you?”  
  
Harry choked a bit from the forwardness but recovered, “Math huh?”  
  
“Yep. A squared plus B squared equals C squared.”  
  
“A smart guy like yourself? Likes me?” Harry/Flash questioned, almost playfully.  
  
“What can I say… your loner jock vibe attracts me.”  
  
Harry felt his ears heat up, and decided to avoid eye-contact with the others.  
  
“Oh really? Well you’re pretty attractive yourself.”  
  
“Ask him to buy you a drink Alben! You gotta get him to tell you more info!” Gwen whispered loudly in Peter’s ear. Peter nodded.  
  
“So umm, buy me a drink?”  
  
“Yeah sure, the Flash has got plenty of money for his special buddy” the Flash’s deep voice was beginning to hurt Harry’s throat.  
  
“I’ll have some whiskey then,” Peter/Alben stated simply.  
  
“He buys you a whiskey” Harry began, clearing his throat “-by the way, I’ve decided I’m not gonna do the impression anymore, my throat hurts.” The others all booed in response.  
  
“I’ll drink some… and umm let you sip some,” Alben/Peter murmured.  
  
“Oh dang Alben, you’re smart and nice? That’s hot.”  
  
“Same goes for you Flashy.”  
  
“Oh dang, can I call you Alby?”  
  
“You can call me anything if you let me know a bit more about the mafia”  
  
“That was so smooth,” Harry could hear Miles whisper to Anya.  
  
Harry as Flash, began to explain more about the mafia, some flirting inbetween it all. At times Harry felt as if Peter was actually flirting with him, only realizing he wasn’t when the other boy would end a sentence with Flash’s name. Nonetheless it flustered Harry to the point he was actually spilling a bit more information then he should.  
  
“Hey Harry,” Miles interrupted, “Mind wrapping up the campaign in like ten minutes? I have to heat up the food in a few.  
  
“Sure…” Harry replied, a bit dazed from it all. Miles shot him a questioning look but didn’t say anything.  
  
“So can you tell me where the hideout is?” Alben/Peter pleaded. Harry went back in character a bit too easily.  
  
“I mean, listen… listen Alby, I’d love to but I can’t just disclose that to anybody.”  
  
“But I’m not just anyone, I’m Alby.”  
  
“Yeah but-”  
  
“Don’t you trust me?”  
  
Oh shit!” Gwen yelled.  
  
The tone in Peter’s voice was in a way nostalgic, reminding Harry of all those times Peter had come to him pleading for him to stop seeing Spider-Man as a villain. It was a bit of a shock to say the least hearing that same passion again.  
  
“Yeah of course I do but I-” Harry began.  
  
“Then tell me!”  
  
“Listen, I’ll literally get in trouble if I tell you, but” Harry began to whisper loudly, “I can maybe show you a clue to where it is tomorrow morning before dawn.”  
  
“A clue is more than enough for me, after all, like you said, I’m smart.”  
  
“That you are Petey,” Harry said smiling.  
  
Silence once again found itself in the room as everyone, Harry included, realized what he had just said. He felt a deep regret building in his chest as Peter sat still, his mouth agape. Should he act like he did that on purpose? Yeah.  
  
“Well actually… maybe you aren’t. I recall that Flash Thompson won the Stark Science Expo last year.”  
  
Anya banged her hand on the table, startling everyone, “The Flash only won that because literally every other project was destroyed!”  
  
Everyone began to laugh including Peter, easing Harry’s anxiety. With the exchange done, they drifted into a comfortable light chatter.  
  
“Need help making the food Miles?” Gwen asked. Miles nodded and the others followed, having the others help him make tortillas from scratch.  
  
By the time they had finished cooking and had ate a fair share of food, no one seemed to recall what had happened earlier, Peter giving Harry a fist bump before they all went their ways home.  
  
“Remember we have a patrol tomorrow night,” Peter whispered.  
  
“Got it,” Harry smirked. It was relieving that everything was okay... he just had to remember to be more careful from then on.  
  
-  
  
Bonus Bit  
  
Spider-Chat  
  
[The Spider’s Web Group Chat - Anya, Gwen, Miles]  
  
Spider-Kid: so uhhh… did anyone feel something going on between Harry and Pete?  
  
Spider-Gwen: Uhhh yes??? Like… I’ve never seen Peter flirt with anyone?  
  
Spider-Kid: either they’ve got chemistry or Pete likes the Flash hahaha  
  
Spider-Gwen: adkjahdkjashdjkhd  
  
Araña: -_- please no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed :)
> 
> Random notes I guess:  
> Both the girl's D&D character's names were based off of women who did pretty cool stuff in the name of medicine and science.  
> Miles and Peter just went with some fantasy sounding names though like who knows if the ben in Alben was intentional... (it wasn't).
> 
> Oh yeah also, I just wanted to say thank you so much for the lovely comments! Sorry I didn't read them until now :)


	3. Streetlights... People!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spider-Man and Hobgoblin go out on patrol, what happens next will surprise you...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also yes, the chapter title is a reference to Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'".

Tomorrow evening had come swiftly, the first half of the day passing by in a blur to Peter. Horizon was beginning to assign final projects for the year, and as much as he wanted to begin them, Peter knew he wouldn’t even start them until two weeks before they were due, the Horizon High equivalent of doing it the day before.  
  
He sighed at his planned procrastination, feeling a bit ashamed of it. His anxiousness regarding the deadlines was growing stronger the longer Harry took his precious time showing up. Deciding his pacing back and forth would only tire him, Peter settled down on the edge of the Daily Bugle and looked down at the city, feeling calmer almost immediately.  
  
Manhattan was dazzling at this time, even more breathtaking atop the tallest buildings in New York. When he was a kid, he used to sneak up Aunt May’s roof in an attempt to see a fraction of what he could see now to no avail. In hindsight the suburbs in Queens weren’t the best place to do something like that, but the idealistic side of himself refused to see it that way. Nowadays the backdrop wasn’t as eye-catching as it used to be, him only noticing it at times like this, times he was waiting for Harry.  
  
A harsh wind blew by, making him shiver a bit harder than he would have expected from the weather.  
  
“Petey-poo,” an ominous robotic voice whispered into his ear.  
  
Peter leapt up from the ledge, turning around in shock. He sighed at the sight of the Hobgoblin armor, but ultimately felt relieved that it was him. He made a mental note to find a way to practice telling apart shivering and spider-senses.  
  
“Did I scare you? I totally did, didn’t I?” the Hobgoblin laughed.  
  
“Maybe just a bit,” Peter admitted curtly.  
  
“Just a bit? Your eyes got real wide there for a second. You know, your mask shows a lot more than you probably think Spider-Man.” Peter could tell the sentence was meant to be in a playful tone, but the voice distortion of Harry’s suit made it seem a bit sinister.  
  
“Hey! If I didn’t make my face expressive, people would just think I’m some creep in spandex,” Peter retorted.  
  
“May want to work a bit harder on that then,” the Hobgoblin chuckled.  
  
Peter punched him in the armor, sending the other boy stumbling a couple feet back. In the struggle to regain balance, Harry somehow managed to remove his mask, his face showing nothing but betrayal.  
  
“I was kidding-” Harry exclaimed, waving his hands in forfeit, “-it’s a good suit!”  
  
“You bet it is. It’s simple and gets its job done... unlike yours. With the lack of shock absorption I wonder if it’s worth the hour it probably takes you to dawn it on.”  
  
“Well, I can’t argue with that… It takes me ten minutes to get this thing on. I’ve thought about using magnets to pull it on sorta like you see Iron Man doing, but honestly? I’m not sure if I wanna add things to the suit or just scrap it entirely and make a new one.”  
  
“That’s why it’s nice to go simple” Peter said, tugging on his spandex sleeve. “If you ever go about redesigning the suit you should let me give you some pointers.” Peter still felt a bit salty about Gwen and Miles who had somehow nailed the suit aesthetic on the first try. The thought of maybe helping someone else out felt good.  
  
“Yeah sure… give me one thing you could do to make this,” Harry gestured dramatically towards his chest, “better.”  
  
“Here’s one thing!” Peter said lifting up a finger, “Get rid of the chin. It’s fucking weird.”  
  
Harry laughed, his breaths echoing from hitting his armor. Peter thought it was cute, although that observation made him red in the face. Luckily he was wearing the mask and so he didn’t have to worry about hiding it.  
  
Harry’s laughter settled down as his gaze shifted from Peter to the city skyline.  
  
“It’s pretty up here… wish we could just go for a ride on my glider...” Peter waited for Harry to finish his thought but it never came.  
  
“Honestly, we probably could. The Sinister Five is in custody getting treatment, and there haven’t been any crimes the police can’t usually handle by themselves.”  
  
The conversation faded away and the two boys sat down in a comfortable silence.  
  
“You know Peter,” Harry began, “I wish I could have seen something like this when I was younger.”  
  
“Younger?”  
  
“I guess that’s a weird thing to say when you’re seventeen, isn’t it…” Harry laughed grimly. “But I mean, this past year’s been crazy... My best friend is part spider and at one point, most of New York City was part spider. I don’t know… I just feel like it would have been nice to see the world so high up like this, with the wind hitting your face, it makes you realize how small your problems are.”  
  
“Harry…” Peter reached out to place his hand on the other boy’s shoulder, but Harry brushed it away, a bitter smile forming on his lips.  
  
“My endless attempts to win my dad’s approval is the pitiful rich boy story everyone’s heard a million times over. It didn’t matter how much you or anyone else told me to forget about his opinions, I just couldn’t stop. Making him feel proud was a way for me to see a glimpse of what he used to be. What I never knew him to be. He showed his love in weird ways but he accepted me for who I was, even if I messed things up.” Harry took a deep breath before laughing again, “I’m rambling… all of this is making my head hurt.”  
  
“You’ve been through a lot,” Peter managed after too long of a pause.  
  
“Yeah…” Harry murmured, his eyes clouded with some form of emotion.  
  
Static buzzed in both their ears at that moment. Peter’s heart ached as he saw the emotion in Harry’s eyes disappear, replaced with a furrowed brow and determined eyes.  
  
“We’ve got a report of an armed robber breaking into Em’s Jewelry on W. 30th street, last seen headed towards Koreatown on 31st. Be on the lookout for a white man, mid-30s, black sweater,” reported an officer.  
  
“You alright to come along?” Peter asked, standing up.  
  
“Yeah… I’ll be fine.”  
  
Peter held his hand out to Harry who took it. The armor was heavy but liftable with a firm pull.  
  
“Follow me then,” Peter said, running off the building. The air rushed around him as he fell downward, readying his aim. He shot a web out and heard the satisfying woosh as he was pulled forward. Through the rush of the wind, he could hear the Hobgoblin glider behind him.  
  
Within minutes they had reached Koreatown, the sound of police sirens letting them know they were nearing the scene of the robbery.  
  
“Spidey!” an officer greeted desperately.  
  
“I heard about the robbery, has anyone gotten hurt?” Peter’s heart was pounding hard from the adrenaline. Robberies as common as they were in this city weren’t ever easy to get used to, especially when you knew a victim.  
  
“No, we’re fine… but the damn guy managed to get a gun from our rookie officer and slip away.”  
  
“Sounds like this guy’s pretty smart,” the Hobgoblin commented, rubbing his armored chin.  
  
“Shouldn’t be too hard to find him, after all I am so smart, wouldn’t you agree Gobby?” Peter said, grinning behind the mask. The Hobgoblin’s stuttering confused the officer but no questions were asked. “Do you have a general direction you know he headed towards?”  
  
“Yeah.. the Chrysler building… our men are headed over there too. I’m sure you’ll probably catch him quicker though. That son-of-a-gun is clever.”  
  
“Thank you officer, “the Hobgoblin said, maneuvering his glider skyward, “Spider-Man, let’s split up, I’ll cloak myself and scour the streets. You should swing from above.”  
  
Peter nodded and started off again, heading towards one of the tallest skyscrapers in New York City. Harry turned on an invisibility cloak, his glider still noticeable by sound, but excusable for wind.  
  
“I’m on the street by Chrysler,” Harry reported, “don’t see anything too unu-” The sudden silence put Peter on a sudden edge.  
  
“Har?”  
  
“Think I see the suspect… or at least someone similar looking to the description,” Harry muttered.  
  
“Does he look suspicious? Give me more info.”  
  
“He seems to be waiting for something, or someone. Seems paranoid. Talking on the phone.”  
  
“Let me see if I can patch in to the call,” Peter murmured, beginning to pull back his sleeve.  
  
“Don’t have to, I’ve already done it.”  
  
“Harold Theopolis Osborn, you clever guy.” Peter heard soft static in his earpiece and concluded it to be Harry sighing while wearing the voice distorter.  
  
“Well I guess being called Harold is better than something that sounds like a knock-off Harry Potter character. Patching you in to the call now.”  
  
Static buzzed in Peter’s ears.  
  
“Why aren’t you here yet?” a voice whispered harshly.  
  
“It’s New York City, what do you fucking expect? Anyways don’t worry, I took a detour so I can speed a bit.”  
  
“Yeah well, make it faster, I stole a gun from a cop and pulled it on him!”  
  
The voices continued to argue, but Peter paid it no mind as he traced the caller to Lexington Avenue, the street perpendicular to the one he was watching from. He glanced at his surroundings, trying to come up with a quick plan. It came almost immediately.  
  
“Hobgoblin, I’m gonna try and stop the getaway car.”  
  
“How you gonna go about that?”  
  
“You see the Queens Midtown Tunnel?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Well, I’m thinking that if you herd them over into the tunnel, I can hop on their car and give them a good scare. It’s a two-lane tunnel that’s divided by lane blockers, so they’ll be pretty restricted in terms of decisions. Once they’re in there we’ll give them the chance to stop.”  
  
“And if they don’t?”  
  
“Then I’ll just have to web the tunnel shut.”  
  
“Alright… I’ll chase them in a circle before making them go in so you have a chance to take position.”  
  
“Got it, thanks.”  
  
Peter glanced below as the panicked man began walking towards the curb, an old white car pulling up on the opposite end of the street. The man didn’t even look both ways before crossing the street in a hurry, incredibly lucky that no one in the scarce traffic was driving at an aggressive speed.  
  
Peter started for another building, taking a quick glance back to see that the Hobgoblin had turned off their cloak. As Peter ran southeast, he heard the distant swerves of cars and a chorus of honking behind him, beating the deafening roar of the winds. The chase had commenced.  
  
As Peter swung lower, he prayed silently that there wouldn’t be too many people around that could get hurt. The more he thought of the plan, the worse it sounded. He had come up with the plan to avoid traffic, as a late night traffic jam could lead to the men abandoning the car in a hurry. Peter wanted to avoid the possibility of letting two random criminals go, especially one with a loaded weapon. People with weapons tended to be jittery.  
  
He reached the tunnel and perched himself in the corner wall of the entrance, bracing himself to jump at any moment's notice. In this awkward position, he recalled the time a spider had jumped onto his head from the bathroom ceiling. He had screamed then. Now he was going to jump onto a moving car like a spider would… which actually didn’t seem all that scary now that he was in the spider’s shoes. Feet? Tarsi?  
  
His communicator buzzed.  
  
“Spidey, you in there?”  
  
“Yeah. How’s it going?”  
  
Peter heard the screaming of the men in the background.  
  
“...I’d say it’s going pretty well. Anyways, you have maybe five seconds before we get there.”  
  
Peter stretched his legs, rocking forward to gain momentum. He closed his eyes and felt the rumbling of the ground nearby. As soon as his brain began to tingle, he shot open his eyes, and launched forward.  
  
He made the landing, a large dent appearing underneath him. Immediately the car started swerving in panic before stabilizing, nearly hitting the lane dividers separating the two forward moving lanes.  
  
“Last chance to pull over!” the Hobgoblin warned.  
  
“I’ll never pull over!” the driver yelled, “Jim get the gun out and shoot the Spider-man!”  
  
Peter heard the sound of the gun cocking and sighed before punching his hand through the car. With that movement came a dizzying swerve, making Peter’s shoulder fall all the way through to the inside of the car.  
  
“Spider-Man!” Hobgoblin yelled. Peter had managed to knock the gun somewhere out of the man’s hands and onto the floor of the car, but his entire sense of balance was lost, and he couldn’t get up no matter how hard he tried.  
  
Peter held on for dear life as the getaway car speeded down the Queens Midtown Tunnel, car horn blaring for the few cars ahead of them to speed up and out of the tunnel if they wanted to avoid being hit. While it wasn’t too hard to stay on the roof in general due to his wall-crawling abilities, he couldn’t move much given the amount of swerving the car was doing at high speed.  
  
“Spider-Man!” the Hobgoblin’s voice buzzed in his ear, “I’m gonna try and go in front of the car and see if I can stop them in their tracks.”  
  
“What? Ha-Hobgoblin, that’s dangerous!”  
  
“What choice do we have? You can’t stop them like this… If I can scare them and get them to stop swerving for a bit you can get back up and use your web shooters to trap the car!”  
  
The sounds of car horns made Peter feel dizzy and confused. He couldn’t let Harry do something so risky, but then again, this was the only chance they had. The tunnel was coming to an end, and if the criminals successfully reached Queens, more innocent people could get hurt. The ability to drive through neighborhoods at reckless speeds… the way you could ditch a car and break into a house with a gun...  
  
“Spidey, tell me what to do here!” Harry’s voice sounded frantic, making Peter snap out of his thoughts.  
  
“Do it.” Peter could barely process what he had said before he repeated it again, “Do it!”  
  
“Okay!”  
  
The sound of the glider pulsed in Peter’s ears, as it veered closer to the car.  
  
“Pull over now or you’re going to regret it!” the Hobgoblin yelled, pulling out a bomb capsule.  
  
The car began swerving towards the left as Harry neared the lane dividers to cross over. Peter could see the end of the tunnel now and with less swerving, he was able to steady his wrist. It didn’t seem like they were going to stop. He hoped silently that they had air bags.  
  
“Stop the car or I’ll go in front and make you stop!” the Hobgoblin warned again.  
  
With only a few more seconds, Peter knew he had to act now no matter what. His Spider-sense was on the fritz, and Peter felt everything slow. He pressed downward onto his web shooter, confident his web would land. At the same time, the car violently rammed into the dividers, throwing everything off balance. The web instead shot down at the tires, causing a violent swerve that hit the Hobgoblin’s glider, knocking it and Harry backwards against the tunnel wall. As Peter looked back in horror, the car made one last violent swerve, knocking him off as well and speeding away, but not before Peter managed to throw a tracker onto the car and shoot a web to soften his fall.  
  
“Fuck,” Peter heard Harry mutter over the earpieces. Peter rushed over to Harry, urging him over to a clearing cars weren’t allowed into.  
  
“Harry are you alright?”  
  
“I’m fine… banged up, but fine.”  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
“Yeah…”  
  
“I placed a tracker on the car… as long as they don’t abandon it, we’ll be fine.”  
  
“Alright…” Harry pushed a button on his suit and the glider came to him, largely unscathed despite the blow.  
  
“It survived,” Peter said, astounded.  
  
“What’d I tell you about the upgrades Petey-poo?”  
  
Peter noticed Harry’s voice was breathy with mild worry. He brushed it off hoping the joke meant Harry was fine.  
  
“Ixnay on using my civilian name,” Peter complained.  
  
“Ah, Pig Latin, the language of fake sophistication…” Harry stepped on his glider, stretching a bit before readying his stance.  
  
“Mind me riding along?” Peter asked. The fact they were now going to Queens meant he wouldn’t be as much web slinging, as it would be running from roof to roof. If he could conserve a bit of energy, it would likely lead to a quicker capture.  
  
“Nah, just hang on,” Harry said.  
  
Peter hung onto Harry’s shoulders. While he was certain he would feel more stable with his hands around the other boy’s waist, his irrational mind told him to not do that. Reaching the end of the tunnel, Harry maneuvered the glider upward to achieve a better vantage point.  
  
“Tracker says they’re going along Northern Boulevard, though they seem to be taking turns every so often into other streets to likely divert attention,” Peter reported.  
  
“Well luckily we don’t have to deal with cars with my glider, so we’ll be able to catch up to them in a jiffy.”  
  
“Jiffy?”  
  
“Don’t judge me Spider-Man” Harry growled, the voice distorter making the tone a bit more aggressive. The tone was followed up with a weak laugh and a sigh uncharacteristic of him.  
  
“You okay there Hobgob?”  
  
“I’m fine… just a headache.”  
  
“A headache?”  
  
“Yeah, you know… stress headaches.”  
  
“You sure it wasn’t from the fall?”  
  
“Yeah, it’s not like that. Pretty sure. I’ll just take some meds once we’re done and I’ll be fine.”  
  
“You sure? Because-” Harry raised a quick hand and Peter quieted down.  
  
“Look down there… that’s the car isn’t it?” A quick glance at the GPS confirmed it was the correct car. It was parked at a 24hr food market. They exchanged a look as they contemplated their next steps.  
  
“So… either they think we’ve lost them and are out to celebrate, they know we’re after them so they abandoned their car at a food market, or being terrified made them seek the comfort of sickly fluorescent lights and a bag of chips.” Harry laughed at Peter’s statement but nodded in affirmation to his basic commentary.  
  
After about a minute of pondering, they spotted the two men inside. They seemed to be trying to regain their composure near the coffee machines.  
  
“Mmhm, looks like you were right” Harry hummed, easing the glider to a stop near a bush.  
  
“Do you think we should wait here?”  
  
“Yeah sure. Unless they start something… it’ll likely be best we let them feel comfortable enough so that they’ll drive back to their homebase, or something.”  
  
The two men each grabbed a cup of coffee and made it to the register. Peter tensed as he remembered the gun one of the men had stolen. To his relief, the gun was not taken out and the men exited the store.  
  
As the robbers walked to their car, their hush whispers managed to travel towards Peter and Harry.  
  
“I think we lost ‘em,” the guy who had been driving said.  
  
“Yeah… the way we hit that Hobgoblin, I doubt they’ll be after us anytime soon.”  
  
The other man laughed, albeit nervously, “To think, guys like Doc Ock were captured and put in prison and yet two robbers like us managed to lose Spider-Man.”  
  
Peter huffed. The difference between those villains and these robbers was that those villains actively sought him out. Furthermore, by the end of the night there would be no difference in their incarceration status.  
  
“Lets go to the warehouse, ditch the car and drive ours back home.”  
  
“Sounds good.”  
  
They heard car doors open and slam and soon after the start of an engine. Peter waited a good two minutes after they had pulled out to signal to Harry to stand. Harry came up with a huff, laughing lightly as he stumbled.  
  
“Harry, you alright?”  
  
“Yeah… the headache is manageable.”  
  
Peter narrowed his eyes, “You want me to buy you something from the store?”  
  
“Nah… Nothing will help it. It’ll just go away on its own.. Trust me. The sooner we get done with this, the better.”  
  
Harry hopped on his glider, gesturing for Peter to get on. Peter got on reluctantly, hands back on Harry’s shoulders.  
  
“Could you lower your hands? I meant to tell you earlier but my sense of balance feels odd when you hold on like that. Like… hang on tighter I guess is what I mean to say.”  
  
Peter’s mind went blank but obliged.  
  
Harry turned on the cloak again and they continued tailing the criminals, keeping a safe distance away in case they would hear the glider. Peter noted how the tire he had gotten with his web made the car lose traction occasionally.  
  
After some minutes, the men pulled over to a rental garage in the south of Jackson Heights. As the glider neared closer to the garage, it suddenly swung a heavy right towards a brick building, almost knocking Peter off.  
  
“Hob! What the hell!?” he hissed.  
  
“Oh!” Harry exclaimed as he managed to stop the glider with a jerk. The boys breathed a bit before Peter turned Harry around.  
  
“What were you doing?!”  
  
“I was just-”  
  
“Take off the mask Harry. I need to check your head, no arguing.”  
  
Harry touched the edge of the mask, fumbling before managing to take it off. His eyes were half-lidded and he looked exhausted. Peter couldn’t see anything worrying but felt around in case.  
  
“Tell me what you’re feeling,” Peter murmured as he felt the other’s head. He wasn’t finding anything.  
  
“I feel… I feel dizzy. I should feel fine if I just take a breather…”  
  
Harry stumbled off glider without so much as a notice. If it weren’t for Peter’s quick hold of his arm, he was sure Harry would have fallen flat on his face.  
  
“Harry, stay here. You’re in no condition to catch these guys.”  
  
“But Pete, I’m fine… It’ll just be a second.”  
  
“You obviously are concussed… you could have craniocerebral trauma!”  
  
“Cranio- what? Pete… stop being a nerd. Trust me, I’m- It’s just a migraine.”  
  
“Alright, well either way… I’m taking care of them by myself. No arguments.”  
  
“Alright,” Harry said softly, taking a seat in the alley and closing his eyes.  
  
Peter sighed again, the most he’s done in a while. He was going to get these guys over and done with.  
  
Sending a quick signal to the police of the robbers whereabouts, Peter inched closer to the garage. Whistling idly, he webbed the garage doors shut so that they couldn’t be opened again. Afterwards, he walked towards the side entrance where they’d likely walk to after they’d realize there was no opening of the larger doors. Noting there was an overhang, Peter shot a web up and suspended himself upside down, yawning. It had been a long night.  
  
“The garage doors aren’t opening!” he heard a muffled voice from the inside yell.  
  
“Try pulling it up manually!”  
  
“Ugh! There’s something sticky! Won’t budge.”  
  
Peter grinned.  
  
“Fuck… you know… we’ve left the car here… no one will find it… let's just walk. Not like we don’t live far from here anyways.”  
  
“Yeah you’re right.”  
  
Footsteps began towards the side where Peter waited.  
  
The door opened.  
  
“Boo!” Peter exclaimed.  
  
The two men leaped backwards, Peter responding by webbing their feet in place, causing the men to lose balance and fall. Peter then shot another web to secure them even further.  
  
“You know, the other day I was walking into my bathroom and I ran into a spider just like that. I guess spiders just inspire me, because I thought to do the same as you.”  
  
“God dammit we were so close,” one of the men muttered.  
  
“Closeness is relative really.” Peter picked up some jewelry the men had dropped in the struggle and held it up in the fluorescent lighting. “You know, this is some nice diamond-y jewelry. My aunt likes these sorts of things so she taught me a thing or two about it. One of the things she taught me is how to tell diamonds from alternatives like cubic zirconia and moissanite. In this fluorescent lighting.. I can tell it’s neither diamonds or cubic zirconia since it’s not perfectly clear and white so by process of elimination it’s moissanite. Moissanite is nice because unlike cubic zirconia, it doesn’t get all that dirty from touch. It’s almost as hard as diamonds too at a level 9.5… Did you know the guy who discovered Moissanite thought they were diamonds at first? Can’t blame him. But no.. just silicon carbide. It’s a great sub for diamonds all around though… good choice.”  
  
The two men stared at him, dumbfounded.  
  
“Listen… we’re sorry, we learned our lesson.. Can we go??”  
  
“You know I can’t, and more importantly do not want to do that.” Peter turned away, beginning to walk outside.  
  
“Wait! You can’t leave us here!” the other man wailed.  
  
“I can. And you should be grateful I’m not getting revenge for you banging up my friend back there. I mean I don’t like beating up robbers all that much anyways, but just getting off with some scares and being webbed to a floor with some rat droppings? Not that bad. Plus the cops’ll be here soon.”  
  
Sirens sounded from outside.  
  
“And there they are.”  
  
Peter placed the jewelry down in a safe and noticeable spot, nodding to the policemen as he swung away towards the alley Harry waited at, the humor dying away from him the closer he got to the alley.  
  
Upon returning, Peter didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing Harry was exactly like how he had left him. His breaths fogged up some of his armor, which at least showed he was alive. Peter had never asked Harry how he even got the suit off, something he was regretting as he realized how heavy it was to move the other boy without him helping. As he began trying to prop him up to stand, he heard the other’s groaning.  
  
“Harry, you with me buddy?”  
  
“Pete?” Harry mumbled, attempting to lift a hand to his head. His eyes were squinted tightly shut. His other hand grasped tighter onto Peter’s shoulder, pulling at the suit. He was mildly delirious, speaking pure gobbledygook.  
  
Hey there’s a nickname somewhere in there, Peter thought before stopping himself. Harry was hurt.  
  
“Yeah Harry, it’s me.”  
  
“It’s so bright… my head.”  
  
Peter looked around in concern. The alley was considerably dim, with only lights from nearby windows lighting it.  
  
“Can you tell me what’s wrong?”  
  
“Headache… It’s-” Harry began to fumble around his helmet, pushing a latch which unlocked it. He threw it recklessly, Peter managing to prevent damage to it by catching it on a lucky web.  
  
“Do you want to keep sitting down for a bit? I can take you home too.”  
  
Harry paused at the idea before pushing a button. The glider came near them, Harry choosing to sit on top of it. His head was in his hands, rubbing desperately at his forehead. He began to press on a series of latches that unlocked the armor. Peter helped him as soon as he understood how he was unlatching them.  
  
“Listen, if you think this is bright, the streetlights aren’t going to be the best… you can borrow my hoodie if you want.”  
  
“I-I don’t know if that will help..” Harry stammered.  
  
“Just… just try.” Peter grabbed a spare backpack from a compartment of the glider Harry had let him use, and pulled out a hoodie. He handed it to Harry who took it and put it on, hood obscuring his face.  
  
After some minutes he glanced up.  
  
“You’re still dressed like that?” Harry chuckled, wincing at the pressure in his head.  
  
“Yeah I didn’t exactly have time in between worrying about you.”  
  
“Aw… Petey-poo” Harry joked before wincing once again.  
  
“Oh, I believe they call that karma,” Peter laughed as he took off the mask and began to pull on a long-sleeved shirt and pants over the suit.  
  
“God Peter… is this why you always wear that hoodie? To hide that suit?”  
  
“Well… on hot days I roll it up to my elbows but yeah.”  
  
“When do you… how do you wash it?”  
  
“Is there a reason you’re asking me this?” Peter asked.  
  
“No… not really. It’s the lightheadedness probably.”  
  
“Let me take you home then…” Peter began reaching for his Spider mask when Harry lifted his hand up, waving it erratically.  
  
“If we ride your web, I will literally throw up on you and faint.”  
  
“Fair point… but Oscorp Tower is like 30 minutes away by car, and I don’t know how fast a chauffeur can come and pick you up.”  
  
“How far is Forest Hills?”  
  
“Uhh.. We’re in south Jackson Heights… so ten-ish minutes by car…”  
  
“If you wouldn’t mind… could I stay over?” Peter couldn’t say no to him.  
  
“Sure Harry… I’ll call a cab.”  
  
And he did, all the while hoping that it was really just a headache.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y’all! As a celebration for finishing finals, I have finally gotten back to editing and finishing what has been the most needlessly detailed chapter this story will likely ever have.
> 
> I spent a bit too long (*waaaay too long) trying to make this accurate and detailed before going a bit more lenient towards the end haha. While I absolutely love doing extra research on settings in my stories, I feel like most everyone isn’t going to be looking at a street map in NYC with traffic advisories, and taxi cab rates in another tab to follow along. Furthermore I’ve only been to NYC like two times so I mean, I am in no way able to truly capture the accuracy.
> 
> I’ve been absolutely honored hearing from fellow MSM writers as well as many others who have commented on this fic. I really appreciate it! I sincerely hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I look forward to writing more this upcoming summer. May you all have a wonderful day/night!


	4. Chicken Noodle Soup for the CEO’s Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry sleeps over at Peter's place but stuff happens in-between.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild warning for a scene with a spider in it. I don’t describe its appearance that much besides naming the species. Please don’t look up spiders if you’re afraid of them like I am, and if you do, make sure to keep a hand ready to block out images of creepy crawlies.  
> Sincerely,  
> Your friendly neighborhood scaredy cat.

Harry sighed tiredly as Peter stepped out of the alleyway into the streetlights to call the taxi company. Peter’s figure helped block out some of the light, but his relentless pacing as he made the call made it so that every two seconds, light would shoot it’s way into his eyes. As a result, Harry had to rely on pulling the hoodie further down over his face to protect his eyes.  
  
In the partial darkness, he recalled the exchange they had earlier. Peter hadn’t seemed to bat an eye at his request to stay over. The more he thought about that detail, the worse he felt about it. He probably made Peter feel obligated to accept because he felt bad for him or something. It was entirely selfish for him to just invite himself over, but he also had to recognize the fact that he wouldn’t feel well enough for a long ride to Manhattan with plenty of detours just to wind up in Oscorp, where reconstruction was still going on. Even if his room could block out the sounds of the overnight construction, he would have to tolerate a slow elevator ride and explanations to plenty of confused employees as to how he left the building without them noticing, and why he was back so late in the first place.  
  
Peter’s footsteps came towards him and with it, a comforting shadow that blocked most of the light coming in through from windows and streetlights.  
  
“Sorry it took so long, I had to keep repeating where we were to the guy. He said he’d be here in like three minutes, so not too bad of a wait,” Peter explained, his tone hinting at a smile.  
  
Harry hummed in reply, risking a glance up. The light from the street outlined Peter’s figure, akin to an eclipse. While Peter’s face was heavily shadowed, Harry still managed to see him frowning down with worry. It was hard to look at him with that face, but in hindsight it was getting harder to muster up the courage to even look at him at all. In that moment, Harry forced himself to act better than he felt.  
  
“Don’t worry about me Pete, it’ll be fine. Not the worst headache I’ve had.”  
  
And it really wasn’t. At the beginning of his career as the Hobgoblin, he had suffered from them badly enough he would lie in bed for hours in a state of near sleep before being startled into awareness by a sharp pain. He hadn’t told his father about it at first, because he was sure it was only a temporary thing, but now that his father had passed away, well- he couldn’t really tell him at all now.  
  
The headaches had thankfully lessened in severity after then though, through researching treatments with his doctor, with only one other major incident sending him into near hysteria. WebMD had diagnosed him with a brain hemorrhage after listing his symptoms from pain to runny nose and headache among other things. Luckily after making a frantic appointment with his headache specialist, it turned out that at worst it would mean he had a cluster headache (not as terrible as brain hemorrhaging but still terrible), but most likely he was having a simultaneous case of the flu and a migraine. And yes, it was the latter. He made a vow then to never use the symptom checker again.  
  
“It doesn’t matter if it’s not the worst, I’ve never seen you like this.” Peter crossed his arms and sighed, “I’m worried.” Harry bit back the urge to explain that Peter had never seen him like this for this exact reason, he didn’t want Peter to feel bad for him.  
  
“I just need to rest, it’s not going to go away tonight knowing how they’ve been in the past, but by tomorrow I should at least be okay.”  
  
“Are you sure it’s a headache? I know I checked earlier but I-” Peter began to reach out for Harry’s head again but Harry swatted his hand away brusquely.  
  
“Yes Peter, I’m sure it’s just a headache. I think I know how I’m feeling more than you do,” he snapped. Peter recoiled from Harry, making the latter bite his lip in frustration. He hadn’t meant to sound so irritated. “I’m sorry Pete, I just… I know it’s nothing more than that. I’ve been seeing a specialist ever since the the second or third time I’ve had them, so I know how I’m feeling and what to do.”  
  
“Okay… I believe you. But just, tell me if you need help okay?”  
  
“Of course.” Harry didn’t know what Peter thought he could possibly do to better a migraine, but at this point the worrying was irritating. It was horrible because Harry knew that he would regret acting upon the irritation he felt, but if he kept having to explain to Peter it was only going to make him feel worse. He just wanted to stop explaining.  
  
The sound of tires came near, ending all conversation much to Harry’s relief. Peter turned slightly but not before extending his hand to Harry. He took it gratefully, and came to a insecure stand. The change in height was unwelcoming, and his head felt light as the blood rushed to everywhere but his brain. His throat closed up in sudden disgust, feeling the simultaneous desire for water, and the need to keep his mouth closed lest he throw up. He really couldn’t imagine making a car ride to Oscorp now.  
  
Peter awkwardly led him to the taxi, practically shoving him inside. Harry let out a sudden whine as he dropped hard on the seat, relieved at being able to sit down on something somewhat comfortable.  
  
The taxi driver shot him a disapproving look through the rear-view mirror. He seemed like the type of man who had a photo of his kids in his wallet, the kind of man who both thought good and bad of two teen boys asking for a ride so late at night. Good because they weren’t walking home, but bad because they were out late at night with one of them stumbling around like a fool. Luckily Harry didn’t smell like alcohol, and the honest vibes the man gave him made him almost sure that if the man did recognize him as Harry Osborn, he wouldn’t spin a story about him for a nice price. Regardless, Harry made a note to himself to absolutely under no circumstances, vomit in this car.  
  
Peter rushed to the other side of the car and closed the door behind him.  
  
“Your friend alright kid?” the driver asked Peter.  
  
“I’m fine sir,” Harry managed before Peter could open his mouth. “I’m just prone to migraines.”  
  
“Alright then, buckle up,” the driver said curtly.  
  
Harry began pulling the seatbelt across himself, noticing that Peter had chosen to sit in the middle seat rather than the other side of the car. Peter buckled himself in and said nothing despite Harry’s questioning glance, his smile the only response to the other boy.  
  
As the car moved forward, he heard the radio increase in volume, playing some generic classic rock that reminded him of the Summerstage Concerts he used to go to with Gwen during junior high. Accompanying it, was the sound of the air coming in from the barely open window. He assumed the driver had done it so that it could make him feel better. In a sense it was working; The two sounds were lulling when combined, making him sleepy.  
  
He felt a finger poke his cheek, and glanced up at Peter. It was getting harder to keep his eyes open.  
  
“I’m not concussed Pete, and even if I was, you can let a person sleep if they can hold a conversation,” Harry muttered. Peter frowned in return and shook his head.  
  
“I wasn’t going to say that… I was going to offer you my shoulder to lean on so you could feel more comfortable, but I’m starting to rethink my kindness.” Peter had shifted his strategy from worrying relentlessly to playful teasing. It was comforting in a way.  
  
Harry immediately rested his head against Peter’s shoulder and closed his eyes. “No takesy-backsies Parker.”  
  
He felt Peter’s shoulder rise briefly from a quick laugh, but it quickly fell back down. While Peter’s shoulder was definitely not the most comfortable thing in the world, it helped that there was padding in his spider-suit.  
  
Harry closed his eyes once more, taking in as much as he could, while also succumbing to sleep. The sound of the turn signal reminded him of a metronome, and it’s sound would foreshadow the firm but gentle grasp Peter would hold him in with when they turned left. He wished tiredly all turns were left but then the car ride would last forever.  
  
It seemed like he had only gotten a couple of minutes of rest before the engine stopped. Harry sighed as he opened his eyes.  
  
“That’ll be $15.40 kids,” the driver spoke, looking at them through the rear-view mirror.  
  
There was a pause between the declaration and Peter’s acknowledgement that he heard.  
  
“Right,” Peter said laughing awkwardly, “I forgot what taking cabs was like.” Peter shuffled in his wallet and pulled out some bills, handing them to the driver. Harry repeated the price in his head, promising himself he’d pay Peter back later.  
  
Peter’s statement made Harry briefly wonder how economically practical web-slinging was. Was there a lower opportunity cost of investing money in web making materials compared to using it to take regular transport? The unknown numbers were making his head burn.  
  
“Wait for me Harry, I’m gonna walk around the other way to help you get out,” Peter said before shrugging Harry’s head off his shoulder and exiting the car. The shift in weight was a hard one to get used to, and there was a pain in his neck developing. Harry squinted as he managed to undo the seatbelt.  
  
The car door opened, letting in the chilly wind. Peter extended his hand and Harry took it once more. Peter lifted him up with his super strength, and they ended up in a half embrace.  
  
“Thank you sir!” Peter said gratefully, his smile humble and warm.  
  
“No problem,” the man said, looking somewhat more cheerful. The car drove away, and the two boys found themselves outside Aunt May’s lit porch.  
  
“What time is it?” Harry managed to say despite being a bit shocked by Peter’s arms still being around him.  
  
“11:01PM, I told Aunt May I was gonna be out late studying with Miles,” Peter explained. Midway through the sentence he seemed to realize their proximity and stepped backwards, a bit flustered.  
  
“What is she gonna think about me being here?”  
  
“Well I never said you weren’t there with us. But if she asks, I’ll be truthful and say you got a headache… because it’s a headache… right?”  
  
“Mmhm,” Harry hummed, making his irritation apparent.  
  
“Harry… it’s a headache right?”  
  
“Yeah Pete, it’s a headache. Maybe a bruise on the shoulder too? I did fall off the glider.”  
  
Peter huffed in frustration but let the conversation drop. He fished out some keys and opened the door, the smell of vanilla candles and some food wafting in Harry’s nose.  
  
“I’m home!” Peter exclaimed as he shut the door. He pointed down at the welcome mat and started wiping his shoes on it. Harry copied him, albeit lethargically.  
  
“Oh Peter, I’m so glad you’re home. Did you take a taxi like I told you to?” asked Aunt May from the living room.  
  
“Of course Aunt May, can’t just web across the city like Spider-Man, can I?” he said laughing. Aunt May laughed in response. Harry raised his eyebrows at the horrible joke. Peter coughed awkwardly in response.  
  
Footsteps came walking towards the kitchen and Harry saw Aunt May for the first time since the Spider-Island incident. It was great to see that she wasn’t a spider anymore. Fantastic really.  
  
“Oh Harry! It’s so great to see you!” she said, eyes smiling.  
  
“Hi Aunt May, it’s been awhile,” he said returning the smile.  
  
“Oh it certainly has, how have you been?” her eyes told of more worry than her tone. Harry thought it reasonable, considering that the last news she probably heard had been that his father died, and that he was now managing a multinational company. You know, normal teenage stuff.  
  
“It’s been alright. Crazy, but alright,” he reassured. The light from the kitchen was beginning to bother him. Peter seemed to notice this, because all of a sudden he wrapped his arm casually around him, turning him partially away. Had Peter always been this touchy? Or was it because he was sick?  
  
“He’s actually been suffering from headaches lately, so much so that he was literally passing out on our way out from Miles’.” Peter went out of his way to tell a dramatic narrative which Harry forced himself to stay silent during, even as Aunt May would look him over with extreme concern. He had decided to let Peter indirectly tease him as compensation for having been rude to him earlier. Peter deserved to have fun after all the stress he had been through getting him there.  
  
“My goodness, you look awful dear, I made soup earlier I can heat up for you two… you’re staying the night I assume? I would feel awful having you go home feeling like this”  
  
Any lingering desire to go back to Oscorp was immediately destroyed by the thought of disappointing Aunt May.  
  
“He is,” Peter reassured.  
  
“That’s great to hear. Now you boys wait upstairs while I heat the soup back up.  
  
You’ll love it Harry, it’s my a-May-zing chicken noodle soup.”  
  
Harry laughed lightly at the joke before Peter coaxed him upstairs, the boy making  
  
sure Harry was holding onto the hand rails. Walking into Peter’s bedroom, Harry made a beeline for the bed. Peter’s bedroom door clicked shut at the same time Harry fell face first onto his friend’s bed, letting out a mix between a sigh and a groan.  
  
“Still feel like you’re gonna vomit?” Peter questioned. Harry heard a trash can shuffling near him. He shook his head, a sarcastic response too much effort to act on. His head was pounding along to the sound of his heart. “Harry, you’re kind of worrying me, can you take your face off the bed?”  
  
“I feel weak,” Harry responded, his voice muffled by the sheets. During the walk upstairs, he felt like he was barely able to choose between crashing onto the floor and staying upright. As soon as he saw a bed, his body immediately crashed.  
  
“Well, feel weak with your face up. I don’t want you to drown Har.” Harry grimaced before pushing himself up to rotate himself onto his back. He was sure he looked ridiculous, half his body on the bed, spine curving uncomfortably over the edge.  
  
“So you said you were bruised somewhere earlier?”  
  
“Yeah, my shoulder.”  
  
“How about I get you some ice and you just… keep laying down like that. Bathroom is always open if you need it.”  
  
“Yeah, alright. Thanks,” Harry sighed.  
  
Peter left the room, leaving Harry to his devices. From his uncomfortable position, he noted Peter’s room looked the same as ever, although seeing it in low light was new. While Harry and Peter had had sleepovers before, they were always over at his place. Norman was too overprotective to let his son sleepover at another person’s house. It was understandable, Peter’s house was nowhere near the nicest or safest in New York City, but it had been disappointing as a kid to have to turn down Peter’s excited offers.  
  
The sound of the door handle turning interrupted his thoughts. Peter entered in and walked over to Harry, handing him an ice pack.  
  
“It’s not Miles’ gel cat ice pack, but I’m sure it’ll work,” Peter grinned.  
  
“It’ll work, but it won’t work as well as a cat shaped ice pack.”  
  
Peter rolled his eyes in response.  
  
The ice pack felt cool in Harry’s hands, numbing them a bit. He took off the sweater Peter had lent him, and placed the pack onto his shoulder. A chill ran down his spine from the sudden change in temperature, apparently Peter’s sweater was warmer than he thought. Peter grabbed the sweater from him then rolled it into a ball, mildly cheering as it landed in the hamper with a satisfying thump.  
  
“Goal!” Peter grinned, later imitating a crowd by breathing into his hands.  
  
“Out of all the celebratory sports sayings you could’ve chosen... You chose the one from a sport that doesn’t even involve throwing.”  
  
“Goalies throw… I think? They do right?”  
  
A sharp pain landed between his brows, distracting Harry from the fun banter.  
  
“Harry?” Peter exclaimed worriedly. Peter neared him and in desperation, Harry waved his hand to signal he was fine.  
  
“Yeah. Goalies throw…” Harry breathed.  
  
Peter didn’t say anything afterwards, choosing instead to take off his own sweater, revealing the long-sleeves of the Spider-suit underneath. He threw the sweater more carelessly that time around, and grabbed a t-shirt and some shorts from a drawer.  
  
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom to change… I have some old pajama pants in the bottom drawer if you want to borrow them.”  
  
The head pain was killing Harry, but he needed to suck it up. He didn’t want to make Peter worry yet again. The only way he knew how to prevent that, was to be annoying.  
  
“So what you’re saying is you only want me to wear pajama bottoms?”  
  
Peter’s face flushed but he recovered quickly.  
  
“No! I mean-- no, you can borrow the top too, I tend to sleep in whatever shirts I wear throughout the day. I forgot that not all people actually do that.”  
  
“Afraid you’ll like what you see?”  
  
“... see what exactly?”  
  
“Oof, cold.”  
  
Peter left to go change. In the meanwhile, Harry slid downwards onto the floor, inching himself towards the dresser. He opened the bottom drawer and picked out some flannel pajama pants and a folded up NASA t-shirt that was tacky as all hell.  
  
“Bathroom’s open now,” Peter said, exiting said room but leaving the light on. Harry attempted to not notice how toned Peter’s legs and arms were. The longer he thought about it, the more he realized Peter’s hoodie and pants combo was probably more out of practicality than his own personal, aesthetic desire. He had to hide injuries, a costume, and an athletic physique.  
  
“Doing alright Harry? You were spacing out.”  
  
Harry cursed silently and rose to enter the bathroom, muttering he was fine in passing.  
  
Wary of his ever-present lightheadedness, he stayed near the wall as he changed out of his clothes. Getting out of his collared shirt and sweater was a pain, the tight-knit making him feel claustrophobic and trapped. The pants weren’t troublesome, although he found himself kicking them off like a seven year old trying on his nth pair of pants at a department store. He put on the pajamas without trouble, happy to feel lighter and more relaxed.  
  
Before leaving the bathroom, he turned on the faucet to splash water onto his face. Glancing at the mirror in between blinking water off his lashes, he stared at the dark circles under his eyes. Harry sighed at how awful he looked, knowing that there wasn’t much he could do about it but sleep well.  
  
He reached for a towel blindly to wipe his face but missed spectacularly. He turned around in mild frustration, but it was short lived. All of a sudden he was grateful he hadn’t grabbed the towel, because on it was a yellow sac spider, barely visible on the beige towel.  
  
“HHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhh,” Harry breathed as he watched the spider walk onto the bar holding the towel up. It inched towards the wall and Harry backed away, grabbing a bit of toilet paper. Harry hated dealing with spiders, something that hadn’t started because Spider-Man or spider mutants, but because they were so unsettling.  
  
As he mentally prepared himself to kill it, it seemed the spider and he were at a standstill. Who would make the first move? Harry decided at some point it would be him. As Harry reached forth, the spider scrambled towards the bathroom door. Heart racing, he wondered how he should move forward. He knew those spiders could bite, but did they jump? Did he have to be crafty with killing it? The increase in stress made him feel weak, and he tried taking deep breaths. He closed his eyes and startled as he noticed the spider moved towards the center of the door, too close to the knob for comfort.  
  
“Holy shit. How am I going to get out of this bathroom.” As the minutes passed by agonizingly, Harry started wishing the circumstances would be different. Why couldn’t it have been a small baby spider, like the cute ones? Spiders were cute sometimes… Spider-Man was cute…  
  
A knock came from the other side, making him jump. He locked his sight onto the spider, making sure it hadn’t jumped.  
  
“You alright in there Har?”  
  
“Y-yeah…” Harry sighed, “actually no, there’s actually a-uh…” Harry trailed off. Was it appropriate to ask Spider-Man if he could kill a spider? Could Peter talk to spiders? He never actually had asked him.  
  
“Har?” Peter questioned.  
  
The spider moved again, even nearer the doorknob than before. Harry took a deep breath.  
  
“Peter… there is a spider in the bathroom… on the door.”  
  
“Oh eww. Is it one of those biting ones?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Yeah they come in here all the time.”  
  
“ All the time?! Is it because you’re-”  
  
“-Spider-Man? No. I mean… maybe? They were around before the spider powers.”  
  
“Can you tell it to go away?”  
  
“No, I’d need Doctor Strange or something to do that. I only got the DNA”  
  
“Do you have Spider-Pheromones?” In all honesty, the possibility of Peter attracting spiders was unfortunately very important to his current attraction of the boy. If Peter and him ever dated, would he be able to handle a potential increase of spiders?  
  
“Harry, I really doubt I have spider-- do you want help or not?”  
  
“I could use help.” If Peter could help and if Harry could prevent the headache from worsening, he would suck up his pride in a heartbeat.  
  
He heard a small sigh and a window open. Seconds later, Peter climbed in through the bathroom window with a cup and paper in hand. Peter was a professional spider catcher it seemed. Harry wondered if his father had ever considered trapping Peter in a giant glass, but it probably wasn’t likely. Peter scooped up the spider and released it outside near a neighbor’s house. Harry could hear Peter sigh as the spider climbed into a waterspout. He supposed the lyrics to the song had to have come from somewhere. Peter reentered through the bedroom window and Harry opened the bathroom door to meet him there.  
  
“Boys, the soup’s ready!” Aunt May called from downstairs.  
  
“Coming Aunt May!” Peter yelled. Harry glanced at the ceilings and floor for any more spiders before allowing himself to relax. Peter noticed and chuckled.  
  
“So,” Harry coughed, “It’s that a-May-zing of soup?”  
  
“It’s the actual best.”  
  
Peter slid on some socks and draped a blanket over himself, hiding his figure.  
  
“Hiding your skinny jock bod from your Aunt?” Harry died at the way he had phrased it but didn’t let it show.  
  
“Nah, I slowly hinted over the course of months I was working out.”  
  
“Ah.”  
  
The two boys headed down to find Aunt May pouring some warmed soup out of a tall pot. It looked like it was a classic tomato chicken noodle soup rather than just a chicken noodle soup.  
  
“Harry do you like carrots?” Aunt May asked, showing him some carrots.  
  
“Yeah I do.”  
  
“How about celery.”  
  
“It’s fine, I’m not all that picky.”  
  
Peter snorted.  
  
“Something funny?” Harry challenged.  
  
“Just remembering the one time you ate pizza with a fork because you had to eat around the pineapples.”  
  
“I’m actually allergic to pineapples Peter, do you want me to die?”  
  
“You are not.”  
  
“Okay, I’m not, but I just don’t like eating sour fruit that eats flesh on top of world famous New York Style pizza. On any other pizza sure, but not New York style.”  
  
“Bromelain’s health benefits largely outweigh your exaggerated argument you probably learned about in a Youtube facts video,” Peter argued. Harry lifted his eyebrows at the jab.  
  
“You speaking from experience?”  
  
Aunt May handed the boys their bowls, staring amusedly as they continued their pineapple rant between cooling the soup by spoonful, or eating it.  
  
“Aunt May, this soup really is the best,” Harry commented. Aunt May smiled in return.  
  
“What’d I tell you Har? I’m always right about everything,” Peter grinned.  
  
“Yeah yeah, don’t let it get to your head Petey-poo.”  
  
Peter nearly choked on his spoon, cringing. Harry smirked until he remembered Aunt May was in the room, and then he figuratively died. She paused searching the cabinets upon hearing the nickname, but smiled nonetheless.  
  
“So Harry, do you like pancakes? I’m thinking about making pancakes tomorrow.”  
  
Aunt May was clearly an angel. Throwing a line to him, saving him temporarily from the urge to just hoverglide straight into a brick wall.  
  
“Aunt May, I love pancakes, I’d love some if they won’t be any trouble.”  
  
“Oh, of course not.”  
  
They ate on, both of them mutually agreeing to never comment on the fact Harry made the greatest faux-pas in all of history. Aunt May left soon after, telling them to clean up. As the soup cooled, Harry found himself getting disgusted at the smell of celery, slowing his pace down.  
  
“Harry, you aren’t eating anything.” Peter was almost done with his bowl.  
  
“Yeah, I’m just grossed out I guess… the food’s great, just I’m kinda sensitive to smells right now.”  
  
“Oh got it,” Peter smiled, getting up. He reached out to grab Harry’s bowl while holding his own. Peter held them loosely, one with his thumb and index finger, and the other held between his arm and side. “Can you hand me your spoon?” Peter asked. Harry obliged and then all hell broke loose.  
  
The plate lurched downwards, Harry cringing inwardly. The sound was going to be loud. Peter hissed in alarm and sent his foot forward. A perfect catch. Harry felt his heart pumping hard, a sense of adrenaline that was stronger than anything he had felt when he was acting as the Hobgoblin earlier that night.  
  
“Whew… Thank God for Spider-Sense,” Peter breathed.  
  
Peter brought up his foot slightly in an overconfident manner and then the bowl tipped. It didn’t break, but both of flinched as if it shattered into a million pieces. Soup was flowing all over the tiles.  
  
“Uh oh Spaghettios…” Peter whispered.  
  
“Peter this is linoleum!! It’ll get stained if we don’t clean it up!” Harry hissed. Who knew soup would be the cause of all stress for him tonight?  
  
“Yeah yeah… just let me put the plates in the sink… oh jeez.”  
  
It was certainly a hectic cleanup, but the tomato chicken noodle soup didn’t make a stain much to Harry’s relief. After all had been said and done however, he found it hard to calm down. Maybe it was the jitters from tiredness. While his stress had gone up tenfold, at least he no longer had to worry about Peter mentioning the ‘accident’.  
  
The oven clock flashed 11:49pm, a signal for Harry and Peter that it was probably time to go to bed. Peter opened a closet on the way to his room, pulling out an inflatable mattress with a pump. Harry reached out for it, but Peter waved a finger.  
  
“Nope, I’m gonna inflate it. I’m gonna be sleeping on it, so I want it perfectly inflated.” Peter gestured for Harry to follow up the stairs. He did so reluctantly.  
  
“Pete, I’ll be fine on the couch… there’s no need. Besides, can’t you sleep on the ceiling with a web bed?”  
  
“You mean like a hammock? It’ll dissolve in the middle of sleep, also just no.” Peter began setting the pump up, air sounding loudly in the room. Harry settled on the bed and closed his eyes, hoping sleep would come soon. He felt the difference in darkness as Peter shut off the lights, but clicked on a lamp that was on the other side of the room that hummed a monotonous tune. A blanket was placed on him gently. Harry opened his eyes a centimeter to see Peter walking away and back to the pump before he closed them again.  
  
The sound of an appreciative punch to the inflatable mattress signaled that Peter had begun examining how inflated the mattress was. He was probably checking to make sure it was good before adding the sheets and putting the pump away for good. The sound of sheets moving confirmed this. It sounded like Peter was trying really hard to get the fitted sheet on by the way he would sigh quietly and the mattress would lurch. Eventually it seemed like he got it and plopped down.  
  
Bounce. Bounce. Bounce.  
  
Peter was jumping on the mattress.  
  
“You’re really enjoying that air mattress huh?” Harry teased tiredly.  
  
“Yep… mind passing me down a pillow or something?”  
  
Harry sat up and felt for the softest pillow behind him before passing it down. As an afterthought he threw another down.  
  
“I don’t like pillows all that much… I’ll be fine with just one.”  
  
Peter took the second one gratefully and then stretched across the mattress to turn off the lamp. It was pitch black now, with the only sounds being the occasional car and the light wind blowing a distant wind chime outside. They exchanged good nights and they both seemed to still.  
  
“Thanks for letting me stay over Pete,” Harry said suddenly.  
  
A pause.  
  
“Anytime Harry.”  
  
Harry laid back down with his eyes open for a bit, feeling too restless to sleep. This should have been exciting. Having a sleepover at Peter’s. Instead he was too busy feeling terrible, having both an annoying migraine (which was actually an improvement from earlier, but still horrible) and guilt from burdening his best friend and his aunt. The crush on Peter wasn’t helping either. The situation was straight out of a teen rom-com.  
  
He heard Peter stir on the mattress. A sigh escaped the boy’s lips, Harry couldn’t tell what emotion it conveyed. Relief? Exhaustion? Something else?  
  
“Hey Harry?” Peter’s voice sounded nervous.  
  
“Yeah?” Harry asked back, becoming nervous as well.  
  
“Nevermind, it’s nothing.”  
  
“You can’t just say that… my head’s gonna keep me up all night wondering what you were gonna say if you don’t at least make something up.”  
  
“I mean, it’s nothing important… it’s just that I- I wish that we could have hung out like this under a different context.”  
  
So Peter was thinking the same thing.  
  
Harry voiced his agreement, a wave of sadness coming over him. It seemed like everything going on was always wrong, even if it was good. He swallowed his feelings down and waited for Peter to say anything.  
  
“You’ll let me know if you feel bad, won’t you?” Peter asked, the emotion in his tone apparent. Harry was glad he couldn’t see him. Peter’s expressions weakened him, made it hard to put up a front.  
  
“Yeah of course Peter. I’ll be fine. Go to sleep.”  
  
“You’re my… you’re my best friend Harry, I just want you to know I care. I’m sorry if I annoyed you earlier.”  
  
It was painful that all Harry could do was look up at the blackness of the pitch black room. It seemed like they could they only talk like this when facing away from one another. It was probably because Harry tended to brush off his feelings when confronted in a direct way. Peter obviously knew that, and decided that he should start doing the same.  
  
“Caring doesn’t mean you’re annoying. I’m sorry for making you feel like that,” Harry said. Peter let an almost silent shaky breath. Harry’s heart hurt.  
  
“I should let you sleep shouldn’t I? I’m sorry.”  
  
He apologized again. Harry closed his eyes, they were aching.  
  
“Both of us should sleep. We had a pretty wild car chase.” Humor always helped at times like this. For him, at least.  
  
“Yeah we did, Miles probably’ll get jealous if he hears about it.”  
  
“I’ll be sure to make it the retelling as captivating as I do my D&D campaigns”  
  
“Speaking of D&D…” Peter began. Harry’s heart stuttered. “... is Flash going to make a return?”  
  
“Oh… probably? He still has some information to give, I guess.”  
  
“Oh.” Peter sounded upset. The reaction drove Harry insane. Did he answer wrong? What was he supposed to say? He was about to ask Peter if he was okay with the Flash returning, but would that make him more upset? He was upset, wasn’t he?  
  
“Night Harry,” Peter murmured.  
  
“Night Petey-poo, don’t let the bedbugs bite.” He was really messing things up now, without question.  
  
“Nightmares are coming your way Osborn.”  
  
The playful threat was reassuring.  
  
“No nightmare can come when I’m too busy living the dream.”  
  
Peter stayed silent. Harry was in agony once more. He hoped Peter didn’t misinterpret that. He meant it as a meaningless thing, but it easily could have meant he was living the dream sleeping on his crush’s bed. Despite the panic, he forced his eyes closed and prayed that despite the migraine he could sleep soon. He just had to stop thinking.  
  
He stayed awake until 2:30am before sleep somehow came.  
  
-  
  
The morning came all too soon, the rustling downstairs awakening him. Peter was nowhere to be seen, the clock read 7:45am. He had been sleeping for a while. The migraine still lingered a bit, but it was nowhere near as intense as the night before.  
  
The window was open, bringing in fresh air. The light was bright, but not blinding. Gazing at the room so unlike his own, Harry felt a sense of whimsy. This is what a teenage boy’s room was supposed to look like. Even if Peter was a gigantic nerd and had posters of Albert Einstein rather than some band people their age liked, it was still a nice sight.  
  
Somberly, he turned on his phone to find 50 more emails than he had last night, and a couple missed calls from some business associates. He’d have to leave sometime soon. It was for the best too, having already intruded on Aunt May and Peter so much.  
  
He headed downstairs to the smell of pancakes, and was met with the sight of Aunt May dicing fruit, and Peter pouring pancake batter in the shape of a Mickey Mouse head.  
  
Harry was in love, hopelessly. He could forgive spider-pheromones for some mouse-shaped pancakes.  
  
Harry cleared his throat awkwardly and leaned on the wall.  
  
“Oh Harry, just in time for pancakes!” Aunt May said.  
  
Peter flipped the pancake over and the batter hissed satisfyingly against the hot pan.  
  
“They smell great.” Harry commented, pulling out a seat.  
  
“Why don’t you get some fruit and mix it in with some yogurt while you wait-- Peter you’ll give that one to Harry right?”  
  
“Aww but this mouse turned out perfec--” Aunt May raised her eyebrows. “Of course Aunt May…”  
  
Harry added some blueberries in plain yogurt and swirled it around before eating it. Before long, a plate with a perfectly cooked mouse pancake was placed before him.  
  
“Hope you enjoy that pancake Osborn.”  
  
“Oh I will,” Harry grinned picking up some syrup.  
  
“You sound better Harry, the headache gone?” Aunt May asked.  
  
“No still there, but if I can get some quick office things done this afternoon, I could probably take the rest of the day off and sleep more.”  
  
“Oh that’s wonderful.”  
  
Peter sat down with his own mouse shaped pancake and drew a bow, eyes, and nose with syrup. A Minnie Mouse pancake.  
  
As Harry was mid-bite, his phone rang. The office. He sighed and stood up, walking towards the living room.  
  
“Mr. Osborn thank goodness you picked up!” his secretary exclaimed.  
  
“Mmhm,” Harry hummed as he glanced at some photos of Peter with his Aunt and Uncle.  
  
“I tried calling you last night but you had your phone off. The AI security research branch in Manchester was asking for estimates regarding how complex sample encryptions should be based on U.S. and ally defense standards and protocol. They also asked if the AI’s own encryptions should be based in public key like DH or symmetric or both? The technicians said the AI has enough processing power to…”  
  
Harry pinched in between his brows as his secretary went on about summarizing his schedule, obviously not understanding what he was saying but rather just reading notes he had likely transcribed from a call. Occasionally, Harry would space out during the man’s explanation and find himself staring at a photo of himself and Peter at Coney Island when they were ten years old. His father had taken them then. There was popcorn in Peter’s hair. Harry had a recent photo of them at the island in his own bedroom. Seeing the first time they went together was nostalgia-inducing.  
  
“Mr. Osborn, are you listening? The board of directors wants to meet again for the-”  
  
“Yeah, I was listening. Send a car over to pick me up. I’ll read up on the emails you sent me, I promise.”  
  
He hung up and went back to the kitchen where Aunt May and Peter were finishing up reading.  
  
“Are you leaving so soon?” Aunt May asked, worried.  
  
“Yeah. Unfortunately the office needs me and that means more stress, but I had a wonderful time over. Thank you for having me.”  
  
“Anytime,” Aunt May and Peter both said at the same time.  
  
Harry sat back down to finish his breakfast and afterwards he and Peter sat outside in the cool air waiting for Harry’s ride home.  
  
“If you ever need me to swing by, I’ll be there.”  
  
“I know you’ll be. Same offer goes for you.”  
  
Harry placed his arm around Peter and patted his back lightly, deciding that that’s what he could do to show him his appreciation. His car rolled up and he let go. He wished he didn’t have to go, but there wasn’t any choice. Peter’s face shifted to some emotion but it quickly vanished.  
  
“Well, my migraine isn’t coming back by itself. Gotta go.”  
  
“I’ll text you later… we need to hang out more. Talk more.”  
  
“Yeah, that sounds nice. Catch you later Pete.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
There was a hint of sadness in Peter’s voice but Harry tried not to notice it. He opened the door and got in, watching the road behind him until Peter was no longer visible and his neck ached from looking back. Was he going home, or had he just left it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were some pretty good contenders for the chapter title ranging from simple references like Prescription Pancakes for the Soul, to the more creative but awkward titles like Rx: Pancakes, 2 spoons syrup, avoid stress (in the style of a medical prescription), and Studies Reveal Migraine-Curing Properties in Mouse Shaped Breakfast Food (and other click baity things), but I decided to go for a simpler thing. I’m sure I’ll regret it later but that’s why I put these down here.  
> Overall, chapter was pretty hard to write. Been awhile since I’ve written some humorous things that aren’t absolutely ridiculous. Had to tone it down a lot, as well as fix and alter segments of this chapter to fit later ones. Hope it made you guys laugh at some parts though :).  
> Also the Dr. Strange reference came from a Polygon article I read about Dr. Strange #390 where Dr. Strange lets Spider-Man talk to a spider in this weird mind-realm. It’s kinda cute… for having a fairly realistic spider in it.


End file.
